Page 23 of Where Broken Wings Fly

“We’ll patch her up and take it from there. Understood?”

Relief overcomes me, even if I don’t know why I care about a total stranger. Everyone else echoes their compliance, each meeting Lola’s widened eyes in turn to confirm it.

“Finish up,” she orders Doc. “I’ll stay. Everyone else out.”

Doc resumes working, leaving the rest of us to file out without protest. I grab Ryder’s shoulder and steer him outside to light up cigarettes beneath the shining moon that casts light across Lola’s vast back garden.

“You should check on Killian,” Ryder suggests, blowing out a ring of smoke. “He seemed pretty upset earlier. I haven’t seen him look that worried before.”

“Killian can take care of himself.”

“This would’ve stirred shit up for him, Zach. He needs you.”

“What he needs is to lighten up and get laid.”

He snorts. “Don’t we all.”

“Your sex life is a hell of a lot more interesting than mine.”

“I doubt that.” Ryder crushes his cigarette beneath his laced-up boot. “Long-distance relationships don’t exactly equate to many wild, passionate nights. Especially out here.”

“You mean Ethan won’t tickle your pickle over the phone?”

He playfully shoves my shoulder. “That is none of your business.”

“You’re right. I really don’t wanna know what disgusting shit you two get up to. I’ll never be able to look him in the eye over dinner again.”

Eyes straying over to the window, we both watch as Lola pulls up a chair next to the kitchen table. Her eyes look haunted from here. She’s intent on staying while Doc continues his work on the unconscious woman.

“What’s with Lola?” Ryder wonders.

I shrug, baffled. “Fuck knows.”

“You recognise her? Or the kid?”

“Nope. She’s a total stranger.”

“That isn’t the concern Lola has for total strangers,” he replies pointedly.

I’m sure that exact point is what has riled Killian up so badly. He’s right—Lola doesn’t give a fuck about strangers, until they’re accepted into town and become family instead.

She’s keeping secrets from us.

This woman means something to her.

CHAPTER 6

WILLOW

NEVER FEEL ALONE - THE DANGEROUS SUMMER

“Wake up, Mrs Sanchez.”

The covers are ripped from my body, exposing violent purple bruises and whip marks. Light streams through my bedroom window, a fiery ball of raw heat breaking the solitude of my sleep.

Mr Sanchez’s harsh voice is interrupted by the wail of Arianna crying nearby. It cuts through my grogginess, forcing my heavy eyelids open.

“Shut that whining kid up before I do it for you,” he threatens.

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